


Fell So Naturally

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Sherlock December Ficlets 2017 [31]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arguing, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Sherlock December Ficlets 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: When they stop thinking about it...





	Fell So Naturally

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of the [Sherlock December Ficlets ](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fcollections%2FSherlock_December_Ficlets_2017&t=NjRmODc4ZjE3OGJjNjUzYzg2NWVhY2QzMTRjNDJmOTUwMzdkOTRhMCxabzFVQjBkMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfMPAp7-tN-90HMCNGHRDOw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fmissdaviswrites.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167644180668%2Fsherlock-december-ficlets&m=0) challenge. Each will be its own story, though knowing me a couple may follow an arc of sorts.  
> The prompt used for this entry: Bored / Bad Weather

Saying Sherlock was bored again, was akin to saying the sky was blue again on a clear summer day .

It was a given.

Unfortunately, it was an overcast, windy and just bitter cold day. Three days in a row of it and now, it was snowing. Thick solid heavy flakes that pretty much guaranteed at least another couple of days of entrapment with the mad genius. Counting on Sherlock’s laziness to deter him from going through the effort to retrieve it, John made a point of to ensure the Browning was in its gun box locked away downstairs with Mrs. Hudson – just in case.

Mrs. Hudson was the only break in today’s litany of boredom and John was ready to drug the genius as the third day progressed. The two flatmates were bickering for nearly an hour much to her chagrin and amusement. Still even, she had had enough and had retired to her flat for some crap telly. The two continued barely noting her exit, each man gave as well as he got while he sniped, when the argument took a turn.

“Sherlock! Give it rest already, will you?” John placed two mugs of with loose tea on the kitchen counter near Sherlock. “You’re worse than a hausfrau!”

“You wish! Being married to you would be chock full of _Sherlock, stop mixing the experiments shelf with the food shelf_. _Sherlock, the washing is not going to get done by itself_!” The detective groused, taking the kettle from the stove pouring hot water into the waiting mugs.

“No, _you_ wish! Right, because being married to you would be always checking to not accidentally poison someone because I can’t be 100% certain that the powder on the shelf in a box labeled “confectioners’ sugar” isn’t actually boric acid.” John retorted pointedly holding the sugar bowl as he added a couple of heaping teaspoons full into Sherlock’s mug and pointedly stirred.

“That was one time! Name when else I’ve done such,” Sherlock placed the kettle back on the stove, then got the milk from the refrigerator.

“When? Let’s try the time Mrs. Hudson almost cooked the liver you had saved for an experiment because it was on the wrong shelf? Hmm?” Started ticking off fingers, “Or when I went to pour milk in my tea, only that wasn’t milk in the carton? Or when I opened the toaster oven to find molded bread in it because you were establishing growth patterns for a case? Or…”

Sherlock sniffed a container and frowned. John laughed with exasperation as the genius put it back in the refrigerator on the correct shelf this time, before retrieving the proper container of milk. He looked at John guiltily. “Alright point taken.”

Sherlock added milk to their mugs, handing John his.

“You’re going to be the death of me, my love, I swear.” John took a sip from the mug and sighed with contentment, “But you do make excellent tea. This is perfect.”

John’s back was to Sherlock, as he reached for a plate; he did not see the genius blink in surprise. Sherlock was beyond sure John was completely unaware of the slip; it fell from him so naturally.

“Not as good as the thing with the peas that you make.” Sherlock smirked, reaching above John for the box of ginger nut biscuits. “Though, it’s really not a fair comparison I suppose, that dish is a marriage proposal in a saucepan. I’m surprised I haven’t done it yet; I have to rectify that.”

Sherlock had not realized the words fell so naturally from his mouth any more than John had realized the endearment had dropped from his.

John snorted in mirth holding the plate steady as Sherlock poured out a few biscuits, then closed the box. “What? Surprised you haven’t proposed to the dish yet?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, taking the plate into the sitting room. “Don’t be absurd, John. Propose to you of course.”

Both men stop short in front of their respective chairs by the fire; the last couple of minutes replay in their respective minds.

“Did I just call you _my_ _love_ and we didn’t freak out?” John gasped softly.

“Did I just _propose_ and we didn’t freak out?” Sherlock countered just as soft.

“Oh…” both men breathed at the same time, letting it all sink in.

In the same smooth synchronicity in which they made tea, they place the items in their hands on a respective side table and face each other in wonder.

“I think the answers to both question, is _Yes_.” Sherlock smiles shyly.

“I think the answer to your question, is _Yes_.” John bites his lip, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Sherlock.

“You _think_?” Sherlock's frown is full of insult and query.

“Well, unless you’re saving yourself for our wedding night, I was kind of hoping we would have at least held hands; or had our first kiss; or…” John takes a step to Sherlock, looking into those luminous blue/green orbs at last, his gray/blue eyes full of amusement and growing dark with something _else_.

“Hmmm.” Sherlock quirks a brow, taking John’s hand in his, “I suppose we should rectify all of that.”

“Though I think it goes without saying now - can I begin with saying: I love you?” John kisses the long fingers entwined with his.

“And I love you.” Sherlock slowly nods in wonder, his arm going around John, pulling him closer “How is this so easy right now? After – _everything_?”

“Because we’re letting it happen, we’re not thinking about it, so let’s not start now.” John raises his head, even as Sherlock lowers his.

Then neither are thinking about it anymore.

And no one is bored.


End file.
